


Silk

by SoHereWeAre



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Brother/Sister Incest, Come Swallowing, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Forbidden Love, Love, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Panties, Panty Kink, Self-Denial, Sibling Incest, Silk - Freeform, Silk Tie, Voyeurism, silk panties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-02-28
Packaged: 2019-11-06 20:48:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17946848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoHereWeAre/pseuds/SoHereWeAre
Summary: For the Asoiafrarepairs Event:Day 4 : Silks/ FursI chose Silks:Robbsa: Robb and Sansa's denials and restraints over their true wants and desires come to a head (pun intended) one night, with the assistance of some silk items.





	Silk

Robb deftly eased down into the too familiar blush-colored ornate chair facing the bed and crossed his legs at the ankles, his arms folding across his chest. The negligent lounging poorly concealed the tumultuous conflict inside of him as he swallowed hard, his throat suddenly feeling constricted by the imported silk tie secured around his neck. He felt uncomfortably trapped in all of his clothing, from his finely pressed dress shirt and tailored dress pants down to his impeccably polished Italian black shoes. Part of him longed to tear it all away and break free from their confines but to think of it was to cross a fine line that had been agreed upon and drawn, and to do so would risk destruction of the very fabric of his own heart and soul. It was not a risk he was not willing to take.

His sharp eyes conveyed a different kind of story as they danced and snapped in hunger, reflecting in the pale light of the room. His face remained like stone but his eyes were truly windows to his soul, and his punishment for owning such obvious beacons of emotion was the tauntingly weak and single lit lamp. Just enough of a glow emitted to illuminate the canopied bed, but it did not reach to touch his face, and it was not meant to do so.

The dark blue silk dress so carefully chosen for tonight's celebrations lay neglected on the plush white carpet, looking harshly abstract against the white and pinks of the bedroom, but it was no more a contrast than the pale form writhing upon pink silk sheets. Long silky strands of fire spread messily around bouffant pillows and streamed down over bared breasts as one slim hand clutched at the waterfall of blush. Slender legs sensually twisted while the other hand dipped down underneath dark silk panties. Head tossed back, reddened lips parted, there were little sighs and gasps floating over seductively and flowing into his ears; sounds to quicken his breath, his heart, and sharpen his awareness of his arousal straining against his trousers. 

" _Robb_."

His name spoken by her, so soft and barely above a whisper, wrenched from her lips while in a state of euphoria is the sweetest affirmation but his stomach clenches all the same. He struggles to remain silent, as to not give credence to who they are. He wants to whisper her name, let it roll off his lust-laced tongue followed by things near to filth but closer to sweetness. His hand inadvertently skims back through his short auburn locks before returning to grip the armrest now warmed from the heat of his palms. He is still Robb, but she is merely a nameless red-haired beauty pleasuring herself for his eyes only. Or so he reiterates over and over in his head, the lie quickening in pace to her chants of his name. Her beautiful, goddess-like body arches, her fingers hidden under the now offending silk fabric increase with purpose and as she cries out he silently begs for her to look at him but she does not; he cannot see her eyes at all. 

It is all he can do to steel himself from rushing to her. It saps all of his willpower to stop himself from tearing away the gossamer shield and sink himself deep inside of her, damning them both to the sweetest forbidden taboo of their own making. Yet even in this empty connection he still finds some semblance of satisfaction. It is _his_ name on her lips and no one else's. 

Her body falls limp and her head turns to the side. He can see she is biting her lips and her hand pulls out of her silk panties to skim up to her breast where she touches the pink hardened nipple almost reflectively.

He knows he should leave, make his way down the hall to his own room to seek out a furtive release before falling into a restless sleep as he always does, before rising in the morning and casually greeting her smiling face at the breakfast table, as if nothing transpired between them in the night. Perhaps this was nothing, or next to nothing, but to Robb it was everything and it stoked a fierce passion not felt with any other woman. He unlocks his ankles and makes a small motion to rise but she slinks off the bed and saunters towards him so he stops cold.

She is a vision, all tousled auburn hair. Her pale skin shines with the lamp light behind her now and he cannot see her face until she stops in front of him, her small narrow feet within an inch of his shoes. When he looks up at her she is looking down, more at his chest or his neck and her expression is strange, but he can see a flush across her nose and on the top of her delicately rounded breasts. Her barely-there silk panties cling to her and he can faintly smell her; not her arousal as he had hoped but her raspberry-scented hair. He knows she can hear his fingers digging into the wooden arms of the chair as he resists reaching up to grab her and pull her down. He wants to know what it is like to kiss her, caress her bare skin; he wants to know how she tastes on his tongue. He already loves her but he wants to make love to her and he cannot. Were she clothed he could touch her with normalcy as he did when he held her close in a dance earlier tonight; but he dared not attempt it now. To do so would be to sever their guiltless pact.

His heart starts to hammer in his chest as she leans into him and he tilts his head back, ready for anything she chooses to do. It is something least expected as she confidently loosens and slides off his black silk tie as if she were taking it off to hang it back up in the closet on a hook with his others. She unravels it in her hands and it is then that she looks at him in the eyes; but it is only for a heartbeat before she wraps the tie around his head, covering his eyes into complete darkness before sharply securing it in place.

Robb cannot help but feel disappointment at being robbed of the sight of her post-climatic clad in nothing but her skimpy panties, but the loss is quickly replaced when his sharpened sense of hearing and movement picks up. She is changing their routine, introducing something new to them and she does not want him to see. His lips part in anticipation and hope but it is not a kiss she wants. Her hands clasp onto his legs to move them apart so she can drop to her knees in between. He wants to speak but knows to do so would break her resolve; still, he struggles with keeping his feelings in check. To open the floodgates would mean their ruin. He cannot let that happen.

It matters little what he is tormented with when he feels a push of damp silk into his left hand. His fingers start to tremble as they roll over the scant piece of cloth to find the cotton section drenched and sticky with her secretions. The pad of his thumb grazes it and revels in the feel of her juices and the knowledge that the wetness is a result of her climaxing just for him. Her desire for him. The hunger sharpens and feeling is not enough; he wants to see, smell, taste.

Then all thought leaves his mind when he feels her unbuckling his pants and unzipping, pulling down enough to uncover his painful erection. He wants to see her face, see her reaction, and most of all he wants to see her as her hands glide up to gently grasp his cock and pull it carefully down before she lowers her soft lips onto the tip. Still, the sensation is enough, more than enough, and this time he does gasp a sharp intake of breath. His hands ball into fists in a fight for control at the feel of her warm mouth and he nearly dies from the sensation of her wet little tongue rolling, circling, while her mouth moves down to take him in deeper. He wants to twist his hands in her hair but he is not to touch so in lieu of the sight and touch of her, he brings her soaked panties to his nose, taking in the scent of them before flicking his tongue to taste the leavings of her pleasure. 

As he did, she increased the suction and movement and he wonders if she is watching him, looking up at him with those big blue eyes, and if he should feel shame from her giving him head, he did not feel it. Nor did he feel shame for stuffing the silk into his mouth to taste and suck the cum from her panties; he has finally had a taste and now he wants more. He wants to not just push their boundaries but break them into a million pieces and sweep them away. He wants his mouth on her cunt and his cock inside of her. He wants more than just her pretty mouth and he knows it is wrong but her taste tingling on the tip of his tongue feels more than merely right. It is a sudden realization, sharp and overwhelming.

He fights a losing battle, his hips jutting up and receiving her hands shoving them back down. The pressure of her hands holding him in place, the erotic feel of flimsy wet silk in his mouth and stiff silk over his eyes, intermixed with her mouth bringing him off, proved to be too much and he felt close to exploding. He could feel the tightening and tried again to buck his hips but in warning, to which she paid no heed, so he surrendered completely and came in her mouth. His climax was shattering and he couldn't help but groan out her name, muffled at least by her underwear in his mouth, his free hand clinging to the chair for dear life.

" _Sansa_."

She is not some nameless woman, she is not a one-night stand or a casual girlfriend. He loves her, she loves him. This denial of who they are, this refusal to truly see each other with their eyes, this avoidance in the low light of her room and the hollow pleasures they've agreed to allow...it has to end.

Robb drops her panties to the floor and reaches up to push off his tie to watch her as she finishes swallowing and slowly puckers off his cock, her hands smoothing up over his shaft before carefully zipping him back in and shakily redoing his belt buckle. It is breaking their rules and he no longer cares as he stares down at her. Her lips are wet and her eyes are wide with more than just surprise and he understands. He knows.

"Sansa," he repeats, this time strong and firm; this time looking into her eyes. Before she could say anything he leans down to her, doing what he has wanted to do for so long as his lips touch hers. A light touch, not daring much, even as a pang of need strikes him. She holds no resistance but is shy, parting her lips under his for a gentle kiss. It is the sweetest one Robb has ever felt.

He doesn't give her time to regret, excuse, or explain. Instead he does what he should have done years ago; he sweeps her up into his arms and carries her to bed. For a moment he drinks in the sight of her lying completely nude and exposed against the pink silk sheets, and then follows with abandon into her outstretched and welcoming arms.


End file.
